by StVil, Lola
She caught up to me by the railing. “This is the last time I am telling you and your filthy mother to stay away from my family!” she shouted as she shook me.
“Get away from her!” I heard Rio yell as he came barreling up the steps three by three. I’m not sure where he came from. I don’t even know how he knew where to find me. But there he was. He yanked her by her coat and she tumbled down the steps.
Rio inspected his twin.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I hugged him so tight, I’m sure he couldn’t breathe.
“I’m sorry, Miku. I wish I knew how strongly you felt about Jae Min. I didn’t know you wanted him in your life that badly.”
“He doesn’t want to help Mom. Or us,” I cried.
“Sometimes pain is the only thing people understand,” Jennifer shouts.
We turned around just in time to see her pick up a hammer and swing right at my head.
I managed to duck but I lost my balance and fell into the meat grinder below.
Rio shouted, “NOOOOOOOO!”
And then he dove in after me. In my head it happened slowly.
I actually heard his leg snap as he hit the machine below. Despite his own anguish, he kept trying to pull me out. It was too late. The machine separated flesh from bones with precision. I was coming apart like slow roasted pulled pork.
There was no time to talk to my body and explain what was happening. Even if there was time to escape from the machine, I couldn’t because my arms were now blood-soaked stumps. My thighs were now shredded red cabbage.
I heard Rio struggle to get free, but he was caught. And even if he could get free, he would never leave me. He would never leave me. I couldn’t bear to watch so I turned my head towards the window. That’s when I saw my father sitting in the back of the limo, facing me.
I realized the man in the car didn’t want me. He didn’t love me. And worse, he knew. He knew we were dying and he sat there, frozen. I wished right then that my voice was a weapon. And that it would reach my father, and force him to rip out his blackened heart with his own hands. I begged for my voice be a vehicle to administer one thing and one thing only—agony.
But my brother didn’t wish for our father’s death. He didn’t even wish him ill will. All Rio thought about in the end was me. Imagine that; while in the deepest anguish and torture, I was his one and only concern. So much so that his dying wish was to shield me from the pain.
Rio. My savior. My big brother. My Kuuki…
After our deaths, we found out details of the crime scene. We could not be put in a coffin because there wasn’t much left of us to assemble. They found some of my teeth on the other side of the factory. My right pinkie toe was found by the door. The left one was smeared on the window pane.
Rio’s belly button slid down the ceiling along with a few of his fingers. They used a suction vacuum to scoop up the pool of cartilage and blood that used to be his knees. They looked for but never found the pieces that once made up his torso.
An hour after they found us, my mother overdosed on pain pills. Her suicide note only had two words:
“No Air”
* * *
Wes looked like he had digested something bad. He looked down at his burger and did something I imagine he hadn’t done in decades—pushed his food away.
“Little girl, why would you make up something like that? That’s disturbing.”
“That’s why I never tell it.”
“But you’re telling it to me.”
“Yes, because things have changed.”
“What’s changed?”
“Everything.”
“Well, what happened to Jennifer?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s a weak part of your story.”
“Really?”
“Well, I’m guessing you’re some kind of writer or something. But you can’t tell a story that way ‘cause the good guys are supposed to win.”
She laughs and looks out at the factory once again.
“Is that it?” Wes asks.
“Yes, that’s where I died.”
“So you’ve said.”
He studies her.
“I like Asian chicks. Even the crazy ones.”
“Lucky us.”
“Okay, I’ll play your game. If you were dead, how do you know what happened to your mother?”
“We read about it.”
“Where, in the Zombie newspaper?” he jokes.
“No. The Angel one.”
“So, you’re an Angel?”
“Not anymore.”
“And who’s this guy?” Wes asks, looking at me.
“He’s a Pawn I own.”
“A what?” He asks.
She smiles at him. He shakes his head.
“Look even if you are a little…ya know. I am still sorry for whatever part of the story is true. Anyway, live and learn right? I’m guessing your mother learned she couldn’t just hook up with some stranger who comes to Japan for a few weeks.”
That remark is gonna cost him dearly…
Wes, unable to hear my inner thoughts, keeps right on going.
“That chick was looking for trouble if you ask me.”
“Are you saying it’s her fault?” she asks the human.
“Well, no offense, but your mom sounds like kind of a…loose gal.”
“Come on Wes, let’s go to your car and have some fun.”
Wes turns to me and says, “Guess she has a thing for handsome older dudes, sorry buddy.”
I look at the man who is about to die a most painful death and fake sadness.
“I’m sorry, too, Wes…”
He takes her hand and they head for the exit.
As they reach the door, my owner says,
“Wes, how about I sing you a song…”
* * *
CHAPTER TWO: HEART & SOUL
I remain seated at the counter and think back to a few days ago when she walked into Hun’s Market. The entire place fell silent. The news that a Guardian had Turned was all over the Angel world. It is rare for an Angel to switch sides; especially if the Angel is a Guardian. But here she was.
She walked over to the booth where I was bound by Samson string. She takes my face in her hands roughly and examines me. Desperate to make a sale, my then-owner quickly comes to her side.
“I’m so glad you decided to stop by. My name is Mode. And of course you’re Miku. I’m a big fan. You’re one twisted little Angel,” he says, brimming with admiration.
She never even looked up at him. All her focus was on me. Never one to give up, Mode continued his sales pitch. “He’s a very good Worker. Doesn’t talk back and he actually enjoys carving into human flesh.”
She still didn’t reply. I have never seen Mode so nervous about a sale before. He looked like he would wet himself any moment. It didn’t help that every eye at the Market was fixed on us.
“It’s an honor to have you here. If you buy him, it’ll be the first time I sell to a Guardian. Well, I guess now you’re not—I mean, not anymore---I mean—ya know…”
“Seller?”
“Yes?”
“Stop. Talking.”
“Ok.”
“I’ll take him.”
“You want to buy him?”
“No, I want you to give him to me.”
“Why would I do that?”
She stepped back allowing everyone what they were hoping for—a good look at an Angel who had Turned. Her wide eyes were swirling pools of black abyss and her stringy hair flowed wildly around her. Then there was the matter of her wings. Judging by everyone’s reaction, Demons and Sellers alike, no one had ever seen ruby colored wings before.
According to the Splash, when she first Turned, her wings were grey. But after she killed her first human, her wings turned blood red. I guess that while we humans get blood on our hands, Angels get it on their wings.
Okay, when I saw the flaming wings, I was scared senseless. But I am strong enough to fake it; at least more so than the other so-called powerful demons around here. A few of them were actually hiding from view, some even backing away. It’s understandable. After all, Guardians are very powerful. But add evil to that power and there was no telling what could happen.
That was the thing that terrified most of the market. She had not used her powers yet. Aside from sing on the mountain, she had yet to really show off what she could do. And no one at the market wanted to be her first test subject.
Mode tried his best to remain composed. But looking at the swirling sea of crimson cascading through her feathers, he knew one thing: the Angel before him had spilled human blood and she’d do it again.
“We have Cravens here. Your powers won’t work,” he said, attempting to hide his fear behind a casual tone.
“Cravens neutralize demons. Maybe their powers work on ex-Guardians. Maybe they don’t. You can take that chance—if you want.”
Mode thinks it over. Then looked at her wings again and said, “You can have him.”
He unties the Samson string from my neck and hands it to her. She starts to untie me completely. He warns her against it. She looks into my eyes and asks my name.
“Benny.”
“Can you outrun sound?”
“No,” I replied.
“Then don’t try to run because if you do, when I find you, you’ll beg for help. But no one will hear. Ask me why.”
“Why?”
“Because you can’t make a sound with your tongue in my pocket, can you?”
“No.”
“So, no running okay?”
I forced myself to speak for fear of what should happen if I didn’t.
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
As we head out she turned to Mode and said, “By the way, Miku died when Rio did. My name is Redd.”
Once outside, I decided to swallow my fear and ask a question. I figure she won’t kill me after going to all the trouble to get me. At least I hope…
“Why did you pick me?”
“I can tell by the look on your face that you enjoy causing pain”
“Yeah, I guess it’s kind of turn on.”
“Well then Benny, you’re about to have an orgasm.”
* * *
The thought that we could be headed for major destruction made me salivate. I was tired of running cons with my last owner. Besides money never did anything for me. I liked watching the looks on people’s faces when they realize they are about to become victims of a brutal attack; the beads of sweat that ooze down their foreheads. The begging. The pleading. And sometimes even a bodily function. Sigh. Some things money really can’t buy.
As excited as I was to be working for Redd, I kind of felt bad for my new owner. Not because of her brother, I mean he was probably a jerk anyway. But it sucks that because he’s dead, she will never find out what their Heed is. A Heed is a hidden power shared between twins. A power that can only be discovered when the twins touch in the heat of battle.
I know more about the Angel world than any other Pawn. That’s what happens when you work for a Seller like Mode; he insisted I learn all things Angel. That way whoever he sold me to wouldn’t have to stop and explain anything to me. He used to say an educated Pawn makes for half the hassle and twice the pay.
It’s funny that I should be so knowledgeable with Angel history, I sucked in school. Or at least I would have had I bothered to go. I was always bouncing from one foster home to the next. And even if I had gone, I’m sure I would have failed every class. The truth is I wasn’t good at anything; least of all, life.
I could never figure out how to do the simplest things: make a friend, get a girl, be part of a family. All I knew how to do was fight. People always assumed that because of my size they could easily get the better of me. They learned, too late, that they had underestimated me.
The last home I lived in was actually okay. Mrs. Hudson was nice enough. And her husband wasn’t a complete tool. They took me to museums and made be read books by really old guys. And one day, I found myself thinking that maybe we could be a family. So I left.
Thinking those thoughts were dangerous. It made you weak. And I didn’t live to see seventeen by being weak. Sometimes though, I think about them. I wonder if they ever think about me. Yeah right, Benny, like anyone would waste their time on you…
* * *
After waiting in the diner for a few minutes, I step outside to find Redd standing over the corpse. She doesn’t seem to care that Wes’s twisted body is ripped open or that some of his blood made it onto the hem of her dress. She only has eyes for the factory.
“Do you know Montrose?” she asks.
“Yeah, the rep for mankind.”
Theodore Montrose is the spokesperson for all of humanity. He is supposed to represent the best interest of mankind, and as such he is the only human being able to go back and forth from the light, just like Traveler Angels. He attends Council meetings and gives his opinion on matters that pertain to humanity.
A few cycles ago, Atourum had her favorite psychopath/chemist the Hun, invent a mixture called Oxen. Oxen is a glass cylinder about four inches long, with a liquid compound that enhances the power of Angels and Demons a hundred times over.
Atourum had thousands of them made. News of Oxen got out and The Council forced Atourum to destroy it. Well, all but one. Montrose voiced his concern at how easily humans could be destroyed. He wanted mankind to have some kind of leverage. Therefore, the Council allowed him to keep the last Oxen as a show of good faith. So no Angel or Demon could have their powers enhanced without first going through Montrose.
Demons have sought out Montrose’s family throughout the centuries. Many of his ancestors were killed because they wouldn’t reveal the location of the Oxen. It got so bad that The Council had to grant the family 24 hour security.
Montrose is said to be a fair, kind and good natured man. He is well liked by many. Personally, I think he’s a wimp. He’s always trying to come to some kind of peaceful compromise. He believes in diplomacy and fair play. He’s an idiot.
He refuses to see the truth: Angels are just as bad as humans. Yeah, that’s right. They’re just as power hungry and ego-driven as we are. The only reason they don’t come after the Oxen like Demons do is because thanks to The Council, Oxen is contraband. But if it was legal, I know millions of Angels would be using it.
Angels don’t fool me for a second, but they’ve got suckers like Montrose wrapped around their pretty little wings. He goes up to some of the Council meetings talking about how grateful humanity is to have the protection of Angels. That’s crap. If Angels were so kind, why don’t they share their power? Or better yet, why don’t they give up their power so that we are all on a level playing field?
If I have to crawl through this sewer of a world with no powers, so should they. I would love to see how ‘Angel’-like they feel when they head to their fourth, fifth and sixth foster home. How much “goodness” can they hold onto while trying to outrun a drunken foster dad with a gun and bad aim?
Seriously, don’t believe the hype about them. Angels are so full of themselves. They think only they can handle having powers, and that we humans can’t. Hell yeah we can! Well, at least I can.
Man, the things I would do if I had a power. First, I would go to Las Vegas. Hit each and every slot machine. Then I’d get a ton of girls and we’d turn Sin City into debauchery heaven. Yeah, I would finally be somebody. The name Benny Stone would stand for four things: cash and girls, then more cash and more Girls.
That is
after I took care of everyone who had ever pissed me off; including all the girls that turned me down because I didn’t have a fancy car or look like Ryan Gosling. The devastation and mayhem would be mind blowing…
I would live my life like Montrose’s son, Junior. Now that guy knows how to live. He parties almost as hard as Arden (poster Para party girl). This guy is a pimp in the best sense of the word. He lives in a huge mansion. He has girls coming and going every hour on the hour, and has access to the best of everything.
He’s not even worried that his Dad might be attacked and killed at any moment. He just parties and gets laid. He makes Hefner look like a choir boy. Everything about him says, “I do what I want.” Junior is definitely my kind of guy.
But for many Angels, the thought that the last vial of Oxen will be passed down to Junior makes them nervous. They have pleaded with Montrose to speak to his son about his playboy ways and irresponsible behavior. And what does Junior say to his dad? “Suck it.” I really like that guy. If I could be him for even an hour…
Okay, Benny, back to reality. You are now owned by Redd and she doesn’t like unfocused Pawns.
I shake my head as if to clear out all other thoughts and address my new owner.
“You want to go see Montrose?”
“No, he died a few days ago.”
“I haven’t heard anything about that.”
“The Council is trying to keep it out of the Splash.”
“So, how do you know he’s dead?”
“I killed him.”
Oh…
She continues to speak as if to answer the question I was too scared to ask.
“I asked him where the Oxen was and he wouldn’t tell me.”
“So you serenaded him?”
“No. Montrose was a good guy. He didn’t care about his own safety. He cared about his security team. So I sang them a pretty little Hope; soft and slow. In order to save them, he told me everything.”
“So you didn’t sing to him?”
“No, but being around my voice caused a sadness he couldn’t escape, so he shot himself”
